» Housemates from hell

Where to begin...
Having had the pleasure, or disfortune, of having had quite a few different housemates in my time in London, there are a few that stick out;

Living in a 3 bed flat in Camberwell with 4 slightly crazy Australians - M & L who shared a room were brother and sister (and personally I think that sharing a bed with your sibling for 2+ years is a bit disturbing in itself) and M (male) had a thing for looking at gay porn on my laptop... The poor guy didn't realize that there was such a thing as "history" on explorer or that when someone opened media player then interestingly titled clips would come on before our selected file... He would deny any claim that he might in fact be gay, despite the porn, having strange men over when his sister was out of town, and jumping up and down in excitement when he went to bake cookies or cheesecake at his friend's house... Then there was L (the sister) who was your typically tom-boy Aussie chick who worked at the Oval and would steal booze, money and have sex with her black (because she only wanted black men..) boyfriend in the Oval kitchen. And then come home and tell us all about how sore she was and how it almost poked her intestines.

The other two were fairly normal aside from N who would walk around the flat in his, white, boxers with skid marks & happily displaying the day's morning glory.

N & his roommate D went on a bus tour of Europe for 3 months and found some weird guy to take their room whilst they were gone, but he ended up leaving early as he was missing his gf in the US so M&L found a couple to take the room for a couple of months and then us splitting the extra rent as the other guy had paid for the whole time (not very nice, I know) - without telling N&D. So in move a lovely Scottish guy and his psycho bulimic girlfriend. Seriously, she didn't work, didn't do anything around the house, constantly nagged & whinged, ate like a horse then ran off to the bathroom to puke and it would stink for hours. The poor guy had to do everything & hold down a job to support her eating habits.

Finally there was the neighbour from hell who we had the pleasure of living next to in Streatham (so pretty much a housemate considering how close we were...) - he must have been in his late 60s early 70s and had long dreadlocked hair to his waist, a leopard's skin hanging off a tree in the garden (complete with head, paws etc) and a penchant for playing insanely loud gangster rap from 2 - 5 am, whilst singing along at the top of his voice. We once knocked on his door to ask him to turn it down, and the stench of weed that escaped when he opened the door was terrible.
(Wed 11th Apr 2007, 14:37, More)